Rounding the shoulder of a massive cliff, we swung sharply down hill to a narrow bridge of masonry, the arm holding back the great artificial body of water. In front was the dam, one of the largest in the world, and in difficulty of construction, one of the most interesting to engineers. Yet the flood twice Niagara’s height pouring over it, is dwarfed to a mere trickle by the majesty of the cliffs above. To get its full impressiveness you must descend to the bottom of the masonry and look up at the volume pouring over the curved wall, which has made a quarter of a million acres of desert the most fruitful section of this continent. You observe a man walking along the steps which line the concave wall of the dam in close formation, and notice that his shoulder is on a level with the step above. Gradually, isolated from its dwarfing surroundings, the handiwork of Man impresses you. There has been talk of placing near the dam a memorial to Roosevelt, but no fitting memorial could be placed there which would not seem of pigmy significance. The best and most appropriate memorial to the man of deeds is the dam itself, and the fertile and prosperous Salt River Valley below it. At the Inn built on the borders of the lake we asked for rooms. The innkeeper, a plump and rubicund Irishman, seemed flustered. His eyes swam, and he looked through us and beyond us with a fixed glare. His breath came short and labored--very fragrant. “Don’t hurry me, lady,” he replied pettishly to Miss Susan, “can’t you see the crowds waiting for rooms? They ain’t trying to get in ahead of their turn. _They’re_ behaving themselves. _They_ aint trying to nag the life out of me asking for this and that. _They_ aint pushin’ and shovin’. Now, lady,” fixing a stern eye upon her, and speaking like a man whose patience would outlast any strain, “I’m at my wit’s end with all these people. Can’t you be reasonable and wait till I git ’round to you?” As we were the only people in sight, we were forced to conclude he was seeing us in generous quantities. Possibly, too, we were not standing still, but were whirling around in an irritating way. So we waited patiently for an hour or so, while John made frequent trips to the back of the house. As the afternoon shortened, and John’s temper with it, the crowd steadily increased. “Are our rooms ready yet?” I finally asked. His eye wandered past me and lighted upon Miss Susan. He fixed upon her, as a person who had given him much trouble a long time ago. “What! You here again?” He had a fine exclamatory style. “Lady, you’re giving me more trouble than all the rest of ’em put together. Here, Ed,” he called a clerk, with great magnanimity, “take ’em. Give ’em a room. Give ’em the hotel. Give ’em _anything_ they want. Only get ’em out of my way.”